


And It Burns, Burns, Burns

by ashtraythief



Series: masquerade fills [20]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fire, Future Fic, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), Outdoor Sex, Quote: Sam and Dean Winchester are psychotically irrationally erotically codependent on each other, Sibling Incest, and it burns, bunker bashing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:47:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23971798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashtraythief/pseuds/ashtraythief
Summary: Sam and Dean win their fight against Chuck and in its aftermath the bunker burns. Sam and Dean find that they don’t mind so much.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Series: masquerade fills [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1131689
Comments: 22
Kudos: 124
Collections: SPN_Masquerade Spring 2020





	And It Burns, Burns, Burns

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the sixth round of the spn_masquerade for this prompt: The bunker is burning, and Sam and Dean are watching as they fuck.
> 
> Wincest is always a little outside my comfort zone, but the anonymity of the masquerade gave me courage. So here goes nothing. Hope you guys like it.
> 
> Many thanks to masja_17 for the beta!

The flames are licking high towards the dark night sky.

The entire layer of earth, grass, and vegetation over the bunker had collapsed as they destroyed Chuck. All the quests, all the spells, Jack, the angels and death’s book, and yet, the answer had been so simple. It was the same answer it had always been. Sam and Dean, together.

The ritual had imploded the bunker and Sam and Dean had barely made it out, clothes smelling of smoke and soot on their faces.

Now they watch from a distance as the entire structure collapses under the flames, the ground swallowing the bunker up into a dark abyss.

“I’m sorry,” Dean says.

“Why?” Sam asks.

“All the research, all the books. I know how much you enjoyed that stuff.”

Sam shakes his head. “I mean yeah, it was great in the beginning. But the bunker was just a diversion, one of Chuck’s stupid gadgets to distract us from what really mattered.”

“Hmm.”

“What about you?” Sam asks. “Want us to find another place with a big kitchen and a nice shower?”

Dean lets out a short laugh. “Nah. It was nice, sure, but really, all this shit, that’s not what we need. That was never what we needed.”

Not taking his eyes off the growing fire, Sam takes Dean’s hand. He has a feeling that this might be an exception to Dean’s no-chick-flick-moments rule.

“Holding hands, Sammy?” Dean asks, voice teasing.

Sam shrugs. “We just saved the world.”

“Yeah,” Dean says with emphasis. “You don’t celebrate saving the world with hand holding, you celebrate saving the world with fireworks.”

As if on cue, there’s a gigantic explosion below them and the flames dance in purple, green and pink. The smoke turns into light shades of blue and billows up the sky in strange, slow-moving clouds.

“There you go,” Sam says.

“I was thinking of a different kind of fireworks, Sammy.”

Sam can practically hear Dean’s ridiculous eyebrow waggle, but Dean’s voice is deep and rumbling and Sam’s body reacts immediately. It doesn’t matter how often they do this, Sam is entirely Dean’s, has always been, ever since Dean carried him from the fire. It doesn’t matter how often they fought and split up. In the end, it’s always them. Has always been them.

Dean carried Sam from the fire when he was a baby and when Jess died, Dean brought him back to life. Dean didn’t give up on him after Ruby and he let him go when Sam asked him to. There’s more, pain and separation in Chuck’s sandbox, but they’ve always come out of it together. Dean never gave him a ring, but after the trials, they said their own vows in a decaying church while the angels fell.

Sam turns to Dean and Dean’s already there, calloused hand fitting to Sam’s cheek and pulling him down into a deep, toe-curling kiss. Dean’s lips are soft and insistent and Sam sinks into his big brother’s kiss.

The fire is growing, the cracking and clinging sounds of the collapsing bunker providing the background music while they tear their clothes off with impatient fingers. The fire is big enough to warm the air, smoke heavy and biting, but they’re not going to go anywhere right now.

They tumble to the ground, but Sam wants to see. Now that it’s all over, that Chuck is gone, the last few years feel like a nightmare he just woke up from. Like he’s been walking the world with gauze over his eyes, knowing deep down inside that there’s something terribly wrong, but never able to put his finger on it.

Sam twists around, goes up on his hands and knees, and watches the fire feed on the bunker’s ruins. Dean’s hands settle on his hips, anchor him.

“Feels so damn right,” Dean mutters and Sam knows he means both the bunker and Sam on his knees for him.

Sam pushes out his ass, trusting Dean to take care of him while he watches the fire. Dean’s wet tongue startles Sam and he closes his eyes as Dean starts opening him up with his fingers and his mouth, gentle yet sure, years of practice and familiarity guiding his movements.

Sam forces himself to open his eyes again, to keep watching the dancing flames. A gust of wind pushes the smoke away and, for a moment, Sam can see the map room and part of the library, some of the pillars still standing, the flames licking between them and consuming everything in their path.

“We don’t need all that shit, do we, Sammy?” Dean says darkly. “Just need my baby and you.”

“Yes,” Sam pants. “Just you.”

Dean makes a pleased rumbling sound and then Sam feels the blunt pressure of his cock. Sam inhales and relaxes, letting Dean push into his pliant body.

“Fuck, Sammy. So fucking good.”

Dean fills him in one slow move, savoring it, drawing it out, and Sam digs his fingers into the soft earth. His cock is already straining and leaking, but he wants to savor this, just like Dean did.

The rhythm Dean sets is slow but deep, and Sam knows Dean’s watching the fire, too. This isn’t the first time they fucked next to open fire, but it’s different. It’s final. Ending this fucked-up chapter of their lives.

“So pretty. So pretty in this light.”

Sam cranes his head around and Dean’s eyes are lowered, fixed on Sam.

“Watch, Dean.”

Dean grumbles, grips Sam tighter. “He’s not gonna get one more second of my attention, Sam. He’s not worth it. You are.”

Sam groans and pushes back. “I love you. So fucking much.”

“I know.” Dean’s voice is grave-dirt rough now and his hips pick up speed, fucking into Sam harder and deeper. “But you watch. What we did. What _you_ did.”

And Sam does. He watches as the bunker burns, as his life changes again. Still, Dean’s there, unchanging, anchoring him, giving him everything he really needs. The flames in front of his eyes start swimming, just a mess of red and gray, sparks and smoke, but Dean is the only thing he can focus on. Dean’s hands on his hips and his cock inside of him, Dean’s filthy mouth, praising Sam over the roaring of the flames.

This is what matters. Everything else can burn to ash.

Sam comes, consumed by the fire Dean stokes deep inside of him, and Dean follows right behind, fucking Sam through the aftershocks. Then he leans forward, braces one hand next to Sam’s on the ground, drags his mouth along Sam’s shoulder and neck in a line of sloppy kisses, licks the sweat from his neck.

“Gross,” Sam says fondly.

Dean hums. “Yeah.”

Then he pulls out and stands, drags Sam to his feet. The fire is still roaring, still finding new rooms to burn.

“What now?” Dean asks.

Sam watches him get dressed, the familiar way in which he closes his belt, pulls on his shirt. His heart is so fucking full. “You and me against the world.”

Dean raises his eyebrows. “You and me and Baby.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “You and me and Baby.”

Dean’s grin is bright and happy, and if it weren’t for the crinkles in the corners in his eyes, Sam could think they were still in their twenties and chasing the next ghost, blissfully ignorant of the larger doom looming. But now that’s all over and they can go back to chasing the next salt and burn, drinking beer and eating take out in cheap motels, and fucking in the backseat of the Impala whenever the mood strikes them.

Sam leads the way down the hill and towards the bushes where they’d parked the Impala. Dean’s face lights up as soon as he spots the car.

“The bunker was never home anyway,” Sam says.

Dean puts a hand on her roof, gives her a loving pat. “Damn straight.”

Once they’re in the car and Dean’s popped in a Led Zeppelin tape, Dean lets his right hand fall on the seat between them, palm up.

“Not a word,” he grumbles.

Sam grins and takes Dean’s hand. He’s home again.

**Author's Note:**

> You can come find me on tumblr [here](http://ashtraythief.tumblr.com/) and on twitter [here.](https://twitter.com/ashtraythief) My ask box is always open.


End file.
